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L'Angley S Delmonte

The Roamer's Mayor

Still as stone
And cold as I
As far as home
And as alive

White walls, bed
Scream to be free
You paint them red
As red as me

Did I find you here
Or was I told?
Finds are just as fair
When there's concrete in the gold

Striking riches
Or the dirt and the mold
But a heart is a heart
No matter how cold

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A Compilation of Memories

Newspapers are wet
on the cold cement
in bits and pieces
they speak from under my shoes
the ink
flows into the gutter
swimming with the rain
and captured industrial smells
I love this city.

The light from storefronts
seeps out
from the windows and doors
trying to warm
the streets
spills over onto the sidewalk
makes puddles and pools
one with the water
I love this city.

[...] Read more

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